


Take Me Out

by flybynight



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Car Sex, Humor, M/M, Public Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flybynight/pseuds/flybynight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been too long, and Arthur's just a little antsy, just a little restless. A little desperation makes for an adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> Writing summaries for silly oneshots is way too hard... Anyway, ok, this was based off of Gwen Stefani's "Bubble Pop Electric", which if you know of it, is probably-- to quote a friend of mine, "one of the thirstiest songs I've ever heard", and she is completely correct. I've been looking to write something silly for a while now and this song came up on my playlist and I had waaaay too much fun writing it. 
> 
> So basically, warnings for a little smut, a little fluff, language, sex in the back of a vehicle, and Alfred and Arthur being their usual, hopeless selves. Hope someone enjoys it!

Arthur was busy fiddling with his clothes in the mirror when Peter piped up from his spot on his bed, irritably.

"Do you have to go  _tonight_? Seriously?"

The sigh Arthur gave was drawn out and weary. His younger brother had mastered the skill of relentless bellyaching from a young age, one that their other siblings and their parents claimed Arthur himself must have passed on, but for the life of him he couldn't remember ever being that insufferable. If nothing else, when he didn't get what he wanted, he would quietly sulk elsewhere while cursing anything or anyone within the immediate vicinity straight to hell. 

" _Yes_ , Peter, I have to. I already made plans! Besides, you were doing just fine with it on your own. You were nearly done!" 

He watched the 12 year old from the mirror mumble and blow a tuft of hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, but, I still have to write the report and I don't wanna!"

Arthur smoothed out the creases of his polo shirt and jeans, then gave himself a critical once over. "You don't 'want to'. If I wasn't certain that you knew better, I probably would stay and write your paper for you." 

"But I don't know better! I swear!" Peter exclaimed, looking almost hopeful. Arthur had to laugh a little at that. Peter was far too intelligent for that to ever work. 

In fact, it was almost strange that Peter had even asked for Arthur's help to begin with. A week ago his class had started a project that involved two things the young boy was frightfully good at : crafting and presentation. He had made a three-dimensional diorama of some battle scene from the 18th century that was a bit complicated, but no one in the Kirkland family was ever known to do anything simple. He'd built 90% of it on his own, and had already drafted up his speech (with Arthur's help) to give to the class. Unfortunately for him there was still the matter of the complete report that required correct punctuation and quotations and a bibliography, because apparently, Peter had complained, 'we have to have a source for our information? Everybody already knows it happened!'. 

Arthur hadn't really wanted to argue with him about it, but only grinned and told him he was going to eat those words in a few years. But he'd helped him do the research and compile an outline, it was now simply a matter of putting it together. Something Peter hated doing, but Arthur had a knack for... except when he had other things to do that didn't involve doing his little brother's homework for him.

He ran a hand through his hair, having managed to tame it somewhat for once, but there wasn't much he could do about the rest of him. It was about as good as he was going to get for right now, with the time he had left. He hadn't exactly been late getting ready-- Arthur was never late. It was simply that he didn't have much that wasn't too formal or too... something else that he didn't feel comfortable in just then. Besides, it wasn't like it would matter that much. His date wasn't exactly picky about his clothing choices normally, and most definitely wouldn't tonight-- with good reason. 

He went a little pink in the cheeks at the thought, and then promptly shook it away.

Peter was still staring at him with his arms folded and cheeks puffed out adorably in a way he would deny later, being a self-proclaimed 'grown-up' who just hadn't hit puberty yet, "...what's so great about him anyway?"

Arthur turned around with a snort of amusement. "You  _like_  Alfred!"

"W-Well yeah, but it's not like I'd ever date him!"

"I should certainly hope not. I'm afraid he's taken."

Peter made a face, but didn't move when Arthur moved towards the bed to grab his jacket that the other was oh so conveniently sitting on top of. As Arthur glanced at his watch, realizing that it was already ten minutes past, Peter moaned and groaned and gave him the sorriest expressions he could muster. This followed him out of his room and right down the stairs into the kitchen where their mother was having tea. 

"Peter, don't bother your brother," she murmured over the rim of her cup automatically before even another word reach her ears. "Go play upstairs with Morrigan."

"She's on the phone with her girly friends!" 

Arthur zipped past them both, glancing at the answering machine on the counter to make sure there hadn't been any missed calls. Their sister could tie up the line fordamn near  _hours_ , though Alfred didn't usually call if he ever planned to be late anyway. 

( _The jerk_ , Arthur thought sourly.  _Making me wait when he knows how much I--_ ) 

"Don't you have a paper you should be writing?" Arthur said aloud even as he peered out the kitchen window and shifted anxiously from foot to foot. 

"Oh yes, dear, weren't you done with that yet? You promised me you'd be done right after dinner!" 

"Mooom!" Peter whined something awful, and Arthur was hardly paying attention anymore as he noticed the flash of headlights coming down their darkened street. They came to a stop right out front, and Arthur bit his lip to keep from smiling. He quickly sat down at the table, ignoring when his mother and Peter both gave him strange looks. 

There was a pause, then the distinct sound of a car door slamming outside. Arthur heard his father in the living room rustling the newspaper in front of the telly, which abruptly stopped as the doorbell rang. A moment later he could hear the voice of his ridiculous boyfriend bellowing all the way across the first floor of their house.

"Hi, Mr. Kirkland! I'm here to pick up Arthur, is he ready?" 

Arthur pretended he hadn't almost knocked over his chair when he got out of it to hurry towards the living room. He ruffled Peter's hair on his way out, answering his petulant look with a grin.

"I'll read it later, brat, just get it done. Bye mum!" 

His mother called after him pleasantly, and his father bid them both farewell all within the same handful of seconds, as Arthur didn't wait or let Alfred linger too long, lest he attempt to talk sports or make some stupid and embarrassing comment unwittingly and get Arthur grounded. 

Once the door was shut, they weren't even halfway to the car when Alfred's arms wrapped around his waist and Arthur threw his arms about his neck in turn and kissed the living daylights out of him. An eager and near desperate meeting of lips and tongue and breath and Arthur knew it had been the waiting, it was always in the waiting. They saw each other at school, certainly, and Alfred came over occasionally to "help with studies", but it was never often enough, and never long enough. This was their first date in almost a month, what with exams and prep for university just around the corner. 

"You're late, you bastard," he managed between pants after they realized that making out in front of his parent's front door could probably lead to problems later. Alfred ushered him to his rusty blue pick-up and wasn't even sorry for how grabby he was when he opened the passenger side door and lifted Arthur into the front seat, kissing him again with a laugh as he palmed at his backside. 

"Blame it on my mom, she made me take the dog out for a walk before I could leave."

"Uh huh," Arthur murmured disbelievingly as he encouraged the touches despite his better judgement.

"S'true! Plus I had to stop and get gas, and y'know."

Arthur didn't care, at all. Not really. Alfred was too much a sight for sore eyes, looking as though he'd been of the same mind while getting dressed that night, just a simple t-shirt and jeans ( _Easy to remove, easy to slip my hands underneath,_ Arthur thought pointedly) and those stupid cowboy boots he insisted on wearing with every outfit. His hair was a frightful mess that Arthur practically  _salivated_  at the thought of running his hands through it, which he did, quickly, as if to hide it. But Alfred caught his hand and kissed his palm and wrist, and the way he shuddered at it made him remember that they were supposed to be moving by now. 

"Let's go before the neighbors see us and end up calling my parents..." he murmured, reluctantly even. 

Alfred finally agreed (but not before kissing him again) and ran to climb in the other side. They started off for the drive in theater down the road, the one not many people went to anymore in favor of the nicer, fancier theater with plush velvet seating and air conditioning in the shopping district about 15 minutes away. Arthur liked that one, but there was nothing wrong with the classics. 

That, and he didn't particularly see the point in paying $7.50 for a film he didn't plan on watching more than three seconds of. The drive in was fifty cents and played old movies that were only popular with old timers and theater geeks and delinquents who came on weekends to do exactly the same thing he and Alfred planned to do. 

When they arrived there were several cars in the lot and the film had just started. Something with Bette Davis and Leslie Howard, Arthur hardly noticed the title. Alfred picked up a six pack of Coca-Cola from the floor and Arthur ran to the concession stand to get a small popcorn because it made him feel more legitimate about the whole affair. By the time he came back, Alfred was already in the bed of the truck waiting for him, grinning insufferably. 

"Did you actually wash this thing like I asked you to?" Arthur asked, eyeing the faded blue blanket his boyfriend had laid down across the bottom of it. 

"'Course I did!"

He pretended to look skeptical about it, and then bit his lip to hide his smile again as Alfred rolled his eyes and hauled him into the truck. They set the drinks and popcorn aside and laid down to press close against the slight chill in the night air. He let his fingers run through Alfred's hair again and let them stay there this time.Their mouths met tentatively, somehow almost hesitant despite the fact that they'd been ready to tear into each other not even thirty minutes before. But somehow they'd become distracted by each other's gaze and the way the light from the film projecting above their heads made shadows across each other's faces and their matching expressions of longing.

"Do I have to take you back right after?" Alfred half whispered, running a hand down Arthur's side. 

"By 11:30," he responded, breath hitching as that hand slipped underneath clothing and met skin. "I have to... proof-read Peter's paper."

"'Kay. I didn't see him tonight, he usually runs and greets me!" 

"Yes, well, tonight you stole me away before he could convince me to earn him that A+ in social studies, I believe you're public enemy number one right now."

"Haha, cool," Alfred mumbled against Arthur's cheek before brushing their lips together once more. Arthur was ready and open for it, every hot kiss making him melt and slide his legs between Alfred's. Every part of him was eager and shamefully needy in the way that it had been for much too long now. Even while standing in front of that mirror earlier fretting, or during class that day while he watched Alfred chew on his pen cap and pretend to take notes, and most especially every night before this since their last rendezvous. 

(That last time had been at Alfred's house, on the couch in his basement with Alfred's mother upstairs right above them making dinner. He remembered Alfred had only been halfheartedly trying to keep him quiet, sort of like now, except Alfred wasn't really trying at all.)

They could get caught. It was possible. It had happened to others, there were the tawdry stories people whispered about at school. If it wasn't here, then people were behind the bleachers or in the janitor's closet or that one empty classroom during club period that the faculty had tried keeping locked but the students just became more creative about breaking into it in retaliation. Arthur was glad he wasn't on any lists or the reoccurring character in any of those stories, but he had to admit that was because they'd been so very careful. Tonight was just a special occasion. They were seniors now, with what seemed to be the whole world ahead of them, but a roll in the back of his boyfriend's truck was all he really wanted right now. 

Speaking of which, Alfred was taking  _far_  too long. 

He jammed his hands down the other boy's pants, feeling more than hearing Alfred's gasp as he practically began rutting against him, grabbing at him all over again and shoving their hips together. Every kiss and every rub drew moans from Arthur's throat that were only muffled and left his chest to burn pleasantly. He could hear the distant sound of the actors and actresses on that big white screen behind them, so he forced it further away and focused on Alfred's breathing and whispering of his name. 

Hands wrapped around each other's cocks, they squeezed and stroked and panted against each other's mouths. Alfred nearly knocked over the cans of soda as he groped for something behind Arthur's head, which would have made quite the racket considering, but Arthur had stopped Alfred's hand and brought his fingers up to his face and sucked his fingers into his mouth.

"Oh  _fuck_ ," Alfred grunted, right during a quiet part of the movie. Arthur just grinned up at him around the digits between his lips and the other boy trust particularly hard against him. It felt too damn good to be proper revenge. 

Whatever Alfred had been looking for, he apparently spotted it between staring at Arthur's mouth and into the darkness. It looked as though it physically pained him to remove his fingers before he grabbed it, and Arthur recognized what it was by the sound of crinkling foil and a cap popping open, all of it making him shudder and clench in anticipation. There was no time to think or consider, only Alfred yanking down both of their jeans, hurriedly rolling the condom onto his length, and then crawling over him to bite at his neck as slick, wet fingers probed and stretched him below. Arthur's head fell back and he stared up at the sky, stars nearly invisible behind the artificial lights. 

Arthur hissed at the sudden loss of those fingers, readily replaced by Alfred's girth. Alfred was still hovering over him, trying to keep himself low enough so that no one in the other cars could see, but Arthur could already feel the truck creaking a bit beneath him, and it made him want to laugh, but he couldn't quite get it out between stifled moans and gasps. Alfred fucked him good, like he always did, snapping those lovely hips against his backside with perhaps not his usual gusto for fear of the aforementioned attention grabbing, but certainly still with enough skill to make Arthur have to bite his fist.

_Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream._

God, all he wanted to do was scream. Scream 'I love you's and 'fuck me's and Alfred's name about a few thousand times, but it was rare he was able to be that ridiculous during sex to begin with. Alfred reached down and began to stroke him, and he knew he was going to climax with not a bang, but a whimper, a very pathetic and needy one that Alfred answered with the most loving of kisses as he came himself. 

Five seconds into afterglow, a car door slammed  _loudly_ right next to them. 

"Shit fuck-!" Arthur blurted out, and ducked his head in a panic. 

He couldn't see who it was, he was definitely sure he didn't want to, lest it be the cops, and then all his bravado and 'I'm graduating in three months I don't give a fuck's became meaningless in the face of his inner goody-two-shoes that couldn't handle honestly getting into  _trouble_  for something, not something like  _this_ , and Alfred could lose his scholarship, oh god, what if it was put on their permanent records-- it would be all Arthur's fault, it had been his idea to begin with, fuck, fuck, fuck-- 

But as he waited for a flashlight to be shined in his face and being read his rights, he noticed Alfred wasn't moving, and didn't seem tense or upset whatsoever. He peered up at him, and saw that he was actually smiling like the fool that he was at... someone? Something? 

"Uh, hey. Nice night, huh?" 

Arthur felt his face turn red-- no, all of him. Someone had definitely caught them, but who?

A man answered, voice laced with amusement and what seemed to be his own embarrassment. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt, just getting out to get a drink for my girl..."

"We have coke!" Alfred chirped, grabbing the six pack off to the side with the one hand that wasn't still trapped between them and wrapped around Arthur's  _dick._  

"Jesus christ..." Arthur muttered, and for not the first time in all the years of their relationship, platonic and otherwise, wondered what in god's name he had done to deserve Alfred Jones and everything that entailed. 

The man beside the truck was, naturally, more than a bit awkward and embarrassed and didn't take advantage of Alfred's kind offer, instead meandering off towards the snack stand. Arthur fumbled to clean himself up and pull his pants back on, ignoring Alfred's attempts to goad him into a second round that would probably end up with Arthur having a heart attack. It was difficult to resist, if only because his desire for sex was nearly on par with his desire to bury himself several feet under ground for the rest of his life. 

Fully clothed once more, they lay in the back of the truck and Arthur conceded to cuddling, which to Alfred was still practically an invitation, but he did nothing more than kiss and soothe him and munch on the now somewhat stale popcorn. By the time the credits were rolling, it was after 10 pm. They got back into the front of the truck. 

"So," Alfred started, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel with a smirk. "Was it good for you?" 

"Oh shut the fuck up," Arthur half snarked, half  _laughed_. Alfred had a way of drawing that reaction from him.

"Come on, I'm serious! Did you enjoy it? You were really into it, seems like you like a little voyeurism--"

"Alfred, I swear to god--"

"So do you wanna try the theater downtown next? We should make like, an official list or something before we graduate--"

"Alfred!"

They both went quiet, and Alfred was trying desperately not to burst out laughing, it was obvious. Arthur scowled at him until Alfred just gave him a  _look_ , and he felt his mouth twist and turn strangely. 

"... It was good."

"I know it was, I was there."

He had the audacity to wink. Arthur could have punched him (or kissed him, whichever, really). 

"Why did you even ask if your ego knew the answer all along?!" 

Alfred snorted, full on grinning now. "You should have seen that guy's face. But you know it was obvious he was doing the same damn thing in his car. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Arthur!" 

Arthur huffed just because, not reacting (too much) when Alfred reached out to stroke his face. "I'm not  _embarrassed_."

"I'm glad then," Alfred murmured, leaning across to kiss him much too sweetly. "I had fun. This was fun. Glad you suggested it."

Arthur blushed, and then decided to kiss him back, much more intensely, lingering and full of promises. When Alfred gave him a curious but wanton look afterwards, he smiled.

"I'm not ready to go home yet, are you?"

Alfred laughed. "Nope!"

"Good," Arthur said, sliding his hand up along Alfred's thigh. "Let's find another place to park?"


End file.
